


It's Always Sunny In Traverse Town

by singingwasps, Sophia_Surname



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Organization XIII (Kingdom Hearts), This Is STUPID, Traverse Town (Kingdom Hearts), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwasps/pseuds/singingwasps, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Surname/pseuds/Sophia_Surname
Summary: Charlie Kelly is getting tired of doing all the Charlie Work at Cafe Paddy in Traverse Town. He wants to leave this boring world and find adventure. What happens when he gets his wish?





	1. The Gang Get New Coats

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout from Sophia (Sophia_Surname) to Jude (singingwasps) for inspiring this and for writing the bulk of the action scene in the first chapter, as well as more parts to come.
> 
> Worth noting: this starts shortly after Sora locks Traverse Town during KH1.

“Charlie, you can’t just go to other worlds,” Dennis shouted.

“Why not? Other people are coming to our world all the time.” Charlie was doing Charlie Work while he ranted about his plans to leave Traverse Town. Presently, he was relighting all of the candles that children with Keyblades kept extinguishing. This time, to prevent it from happening again, he had loaded the locked treasure chest with a spring loaded spike trap to prevent it from happening again. He knew that the weird candle chest enchantment made it always turn into a Mega Potion, but you have to try, don’t you?

“Because there’s, you know, darkness between all the worlds! You know this, Charlie!”

“You are so fucking stupid, Charlie,” Dee chimed in helpfully.

“You know we can deal with darkness, Dennis! I’ve dealt with darkness all my life! I’m friends with the Dayman, remember?”

Dennis glared daggers at Charlie. It was no use reminding him that the Dayman didn’t exist. He’d just huff glue and forget about it again. Dennis wondered where the glue was, he could use a sniff, honestly.

Before Dennis could change his mind and explain that the Dayman was a fantasy of Charlie’s, probably a defense against some childhood trauma that Charlie refused to face head on, Mac came bursting into Café Paddy.

“Guys, I think I’ve found a way to make Charlie’s idiotic ‘leave Traverse Town’ plan happen.”

“God, not you too,” Dee muttered, throwing her hands up into the air.

“Shut up, bird woman. You remember that abandoned warehouse in the thirteenth district?”

“Of course I do,” Dennis said, “It’s where we used to go to drink in middle school.”

“Well it’s not abandoned anymore. I saw some red haired loser in a black cloak coming out of it, and after he left, I did a backflip over the fence and smashed a window with my bare hands and snuck in.” What he had actually done was walk around the building until he found a window that was left open, and pried it open. He had managed to squeeze through.

“Oh cool, we should go back there to get wasted, just like old times.”

“You’re missing the point, Dee. The warehouse isn’t abandoned anymore. There are just rows and rows of these black cloaks.” Charlie stopped lighting candles and his face lit up.

“Those are what The Organization use to move between worlds! It protects them from the darkness!”

“How would you know that, Charlie?” Dennis wasn’t ready to make this into his plan yet, but the gears were beginning to turn.

“Duncan told me,” Charlie said, scrambling over to the treasure chest and tapping it to make sure it was locked.

Before Dee could chastise Charlie for listening to the bridge people (who lived in the twenty-third district), Frank burst into the café ranting.

“Well Charlie, Cid won’t give me any gummi ship parts. I even offered to pay him in Moogle pom poms, but he said that was disgusting and that I wasn’t welcome in his shop for a week again. It wasn’t disgusting, I just bought some cotton balls at the store and dyed them pink. I guess it’s back to plan Q.”

“You’ve gone through 16 plans already?” Mac looked astonished.

“No,” Charlie said. “That was plan G. Plan Q is Questioning The Keyblade Kid.”

“You’re not going to capture that kid, Charlie,” Dee said. “Your traps never work and he just walks right past them anyway. I don’t’ think he’s even allowed in those houses.”

“That’s ok,” Charlie said, “We’re going to skip plan Q again. Now it’s plan Ex Eye Eye Eye.”

“What?” Mac thought it through in a beat. “Charlie, that just means thirteen.”

Charlie glared daggers at Mac. “No it doesn’t, thirteen is spelled One Three. Why would they spell it Ex Eye Eye Eye if it was One Three?”

“It’s pronounced, ‘sheeeeee’,” Frank offered. Everyone ignored him.

“We’re getting off topic,” Dennis said. “What we need to do is go steal those black coats so that we can get out of this Lightforsaken world and find our Destiny.”

“Yeah! Wait, this is my plan, Dennis.”

“Sure it is, Charlie, I’ve been talking about doing this for years.”

Charlie fumed, but for the moment he was just happy that he was finally going to get to leave.

“Ok, here’s the plan. At nightfall, we go and break into the warehouse in the thirteenth district, and see if we can steal those coats.” Dennis smirked. It was a good plan.

“That’ll be easy, I know a window we can get in through. I, uh, left it open when I left the warehouse.” Everyone knew now that that was how Mac had gotten into the warehouse, but no one said anything. It just wasn’t worth the fight right now.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161319726@N03/45795425134/in/dateposted-public/)

 

A few hours later, it was dark, and everyone was wearing black turtlenecks to break into the warehouse. The gang had been about to try climbing in through Mac’s window, but Charlie had checked the door. It was unlocked.

“I guess those Organization guys figured no one would break into their warehouse,” Dee said.

“Or,” a cruel feminine voice said from the darkness. Dee thought she sounded like a bored carnival worker, but didn’t have time to interrupt. “Someone wanted to let you in to have a little fun.” The lights came up, revealing countless black coats hanging from bars crisscrossing the room. They also revealed a blonde woman in a black coat, sitting with her legs crossed on the only desk in the room.

“Are those antennae?” Frank asked, pointing to her hair.

“I think they’re supposed to be pigtails,” Dennis said.

“Pigtails go on the side, those are coming out of the front,” said Mac. The gang was turning in on itself, forming a circle excluding her.

“HEY!” the blonde woman shouted, hopping to her feet. “I’m talking to you idiots.”

“Just a second, dollface,” Frank said, waving her off. “We’re having a conversation.”

“Dollface?” she growled. “My name’s Larxene, moron.”

“That’s a stupid name,” Dee scoffed.

Larxene fumed. “You know, I really thought this would be fun, but you guys are just pissing me off. I didn’t know I could even feel anger anymore, but I guess I can.” She put her finger to the side of her mouth. “I don’t like it. I guess I’m going to kill you now.”

Throwing, then dodging the same knife that was directed at Frank, her eyes widened. "What," she said, and then a little louder, viewing the strange little man breathing like a tea kettle, in front of what she had previously thought was a cave troll or perhaps a very grubby gnome. Palpably, she managed to split the word into two syllables, clicking on the end 't'. "What?"

"Oh I’ve had enough of this crap, just shoot her," snapped Dee, seemingly unimpressed by the fact that Charlie had manifested a giant hunk of wood vaguely shaped like a key, maybe. somehow.

"Yeah, c'mon Frank she has these dinky little knives, what's the matter sweetheart, worried it'll mess up your man-" Dennis yowled as one of the very very electrified knives sunk itself into his thigh, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

“Happy to oblige,” Frank pulled out his gun, a very normal revolver, and fired it at the blonde-haired woman.

Larxene shouted incoherently, teleporting out of the way of the actual lead bullets. She appeared to the side of the gang. “You five are insane! I’m out of here, this is not worth the trouble.” She opened a gaping portal of shadow in midair. Just as she stepped through it she turned one last time. “And kids shouldn’t play with guns,” she said; without seeming to move, she threw one last knife. Charlie’s instincts didn’t call on him to block this one, and it sliced right through the barrel of Frank’s revolver.

The gang stared blankly for a moment at where Larxene had just been. Frank nonchalantly tossed his destroyed gun behind him. It landed with a clatter, and he shrugged. “It was a good gun.”

“Where did you get that, anyway, Frank? I’ve never seen a gun like that in this world.”

“I know a guy,” Frank said.

“Hey, is anyone going to talk about this?” Charlie Kelly held a weapon up, the one with which he had deflected the knife. It was misshapen, made of wood (twiggish looking), covered in nails (none of which had their points out), wrapped in a chain (made of the pull tabs from soda cans), and it looked vaguely pixelated. But it was undeniably a Keyblade.

“Are we going to get this fucking knife out of my leg?” Dennis roared. He jolted from the electricity coursing through him.

“In a minute, jackass,” Dee said. “Charlie’s a Keyblade wielder, I guess.”

“I guess they just let anyone carry one of those things now,” Frank muttered. “Back in my day you had to be pure of heart or some crap like that.” Charlie didn’t hear him.

“I bet I could summon one,” Mac said. He thrust his hand out like he had seen that spiky-haired kid do, and just stood there.

“I’m a Keyblade wielder?”

“Yes, dumbass, now will you cast Cure-Algae or whatever the hell it’s called on me before I bleed out?” Dennis jolted again.

“Keyblade!” Mac shouted, thrusting his hand out again. Nothing happened.

Frank was scuttling over to the rows of black coats. “I’ll just grab a few of these,” He said, as he began ripping them down.

“Do you think she was flirting with me?” Dee asked.

“Will someone please acknowledge that I’m a Keyblade wielder?” Charlie shouted. No one did.


	2. Charlie Kelly: Chosen Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the gang argues about whether Charlie Kelly has a heart, Dennis has a fateful encounter at the only bar in Traverse Town

“There is no way Charlie has a Keyblade,” Dennis shouted from his wheelchair. His thigh was wrapped in far too much elastic bandage, and he was sitting on the wheelchair as if he couldn’t walk. The fact was, the wound was almost entirely healed already, and the magical electricity actually had him feeling more alive than ever. Maybe he’d try and get her number.

Mac stared askance at Dennis. “You were there, Dennis, he used it to save Frank’s life.”

 “It must have been some other kind of…  magical sword, or whatever. Charlie’s barely got a heart, much less one strong enough to wield a Keyblade.”

 “Charlie’s got more heart than any one of you losers,” Frank said as he broke the espresso machine. “Kid saved my life. He was gonna take one of those knives for me.” He then muttered something about not saving his gun.

 “Charlie probably just saw some, some rat that he had to step on and got lucky. Charlie doesn’t have any heart.”

 “No, Frank’s right, Charlie has the most heart out of any of us,” Mac cut in. “Think about his dream journal. Could any of us do that?”

 “That dream journal is nothing, Mac, it’s nothing! Fuck this, I’m going out to do some research. On Keyblades.” He clumsily rolled his wheelchair to the door.

 “Where did you get that thing anyway,” Dee sneered as she followed him, to watch him bump into every table in the outdoor seating area of Café Paddy.

 “It was just sitting on the street outside of Gladys’s house, she doesn’t need it anymore.”

 “Why, what happened to Gladys?”

 “The darkness took her, Dee, have you been to the fifteenth district lately? It’s horrible, everyone’s turning into Heartless.”

 “What were you doing there?”

 “That’s not important.” He had been trying to put himself in danger to summon a Keyblade, because Dennis knows for a fact that he’s more worthy of wielding one than Charlie Goddamn Kelly. Sure there was that one guy with the giant cards who covered him when he escaped the shadows. But he had one of those dumb cloaks, just like that bitch who somehow managed to hit his thigh with her dumb little dragonfly knives, so who knows what he thought or cared. If Charlie can manage to wield that weird busted hunk of wood, he should be able to make one that was the equivalent of a hummer.

 Dennis finally navigated out of the café. The candle he had accidentally snuffed relit itself.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161319726@N03/45617980865/in/dateposted-public/)

 

Mac walked into the alley Charlie was out there, practicing summoning and banishing his Keyblade.

“Charlie,” Mac said, “I’m very proud of you and very happy for you, but that is the ugliest Keyblade I have ever seen.”

“What?” Charlie stopped his inane practice with his Keyblade held out in front of him. “No it’s not, it’s beautiful! How many Keyblades have you seen anyway?” 

“I’ve seen like, two whole keyblades and I’m telling you, that one’s ugly.” 

Charlie stared at it with confusion and pride in his eyes. He loved his Keyblade. He’d had it for half a day, and if anything happened to it he would kill everyone in Traverse Town and then himself. It reminded him of the rat stick that his friends had given him for his not-birthday. In fact, it looked almost exactly like that. There were three main differences that he could see. First, it had a double handle guard around the grip, which gave it a pretty cool look. The second was that there were nails arrayed at the top in two protrusions, which gave it a traditional key shape. The nails were all driven into the body of the blade, with their heads sticking out instead of their points. This made it less effective as a normal weapon, but since Charlie knew Keyblades were magical, he wasn’t worried about it. That was the fourth main difference from his rat stick. The rat stick only had the magic of killing rats. This thing had real magic.

He felt a little bad about the fact that he was going to have to kill so many of those little ant things. Charlie liked the ant things. Sometimes he left food for them. Technically, he knew that they were there to rip the heart from his chest, but in a way Mac generally said was “not badass”, but they were nice. Sometimes he could feel them chittering, or talking, but it was mostly a lot of screaming or questions.

Blah blah blah always squawking on about how it hurts like a bunch of little babies. Charlie hurt all the time too but he never mentioned it, because if he did Dennis would talk about how he’s a lower life form or something.

Charlie was never really quite sure about how the little ant things worked. There was definitely that time that nice lady who stood outside their cafe disappeared after one of them pulled the shiny valentine thing out of her, and a new one showed up. But he didn’t really think about that.

The Keyblade made his mouth feel like those fleshy yellow things Dee put in pina coladas. In his hands it felt a lot like when he looked at the wizard guy’s model where the center of it was this big white thing. Charlie didn’t know what that was. Once Wizard Guy told him it was a sun, and that most places had one.

“Ok look it doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Charlie said. He didn’t want to get distracted for once in his life, this was important. “I’m a Chosen One, Mac. Mom always said I was special, and now I finally am.”

“Charlie, everyone’s mom says they’re special.”

“Your mom told you you were special too?”

She hadn’t.

Actually Charlie couldn’t really remember much of his mom. Or his childhood. Sometimes he’d ask the Gang if they remembered being born, and they’d just give him blank looks and start throwing the dumb glass flower things at him.

“That’s not the point, Charlie. The point is it doesn’t matter what your mom said, you _are_ special!”

“Ok I think it does matter what my mom said, because she was right.”

“Charlie, you’re still missing the point. The point is, you’re a hero now.”

Charlie made Charlie noises; Charlie Kelly was not a hero yet. “I am, am not I?”

“Okay, I’m going to let that one go. Look, Charlie, we need a plan to make this happen! Let’s go to the Second District and kill some Heartless!” Mac pumped his fist in the air, and Charlie hesitated a moment before doing the same.

“Yeah! I’m gonna go to the Second District and kill some heartless.”

Mac gestured between the two of them. “No, Charlie, _we’re_ going to the Second District. I’m going to help you kill Heartless.” With the last part he made a move that Mac assured them all was Karate but the ninja girl told him was just him moving his arms really fast.

Charlie laughed quickly. “Mac, you don’t have a Keyblade. The Keyblade’s the only thing that can kill Heartless.”

“First off Charlie, that’s a myth. That Lion guy –”

“I think it’s Leo.”

“Look, whatever his name is, he has that cool, like, chainsaw thing, and he kills Heartless with it all the time. And that weird chicken with the speech impediment could kill them with magic.”

“Ok, yeah, sure, Leo has a sick sword, and he can kill Heartless. But you don’t have a weapon.”

“Are you kidding?” Mac flexed. “My body IS a weapon.”

Charlie considered letting that one go. “Mac, Mac, you’re my best friend. I’m not going to let you get yourself killed.”

“Charlie I won’t get killed. I can take the Heartless.”

“No, Mac, you’re not coming into the Second District with me without a weapon.”

“Fine, I’ll go get my nunchucks.”

Charlie shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

 

***

 

Dennis had no intention of doing research on Keyblades. He was actually going to the only bar in Traverse Town, The Shadow Saloon, where he had no plans to read anything or talk to anyone. Unfortunately, the first thing he saw was a figure in a dark cloak sitting at the bar.

“Of course you’re here,” he said sitting down next to the weirdo. “I guess you want me to thank you.”

The weirdo removed his hood and looked at Dennis without turning his head from the bar. He was startlingly handsome, even to red-blooded aggressively heterosexual Dennis Reynolds. He was kind of a silver fox, almost, with stark blonde hair and an astounding goatee. Normally a man who looked so much like a shitty street magician would be reprehensible, but Dennis had to admit a grudging respect for the man’s look.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “But if you owe me something you ought to pay up.”

Well, it was only natural. Dennis was a _specimen_. Shitty magician or not, the guy knew his way around.

Dennis forced a laugh. “You don’t remember saving my life? Well that’s just rude.”

The man sighed, and turned his whole body to Dennis. “This drink will not satisfy,” he said loftily. “But perhaps a guessing game would. When exactly did I save your life, little man?”

Dennis’s eyes went wide and he did not have to force a laugh. “Little man? Did you just call me a little man?”

The man spread his arms wide in an exaggerated shrug. “Pardon the offense, it’s only a turn of phrase. What should I call you, then? Another player in this game of life?”

“Yeah, you can call me a player.” Dennis very badly wanted to give this man a piece of his mind, but recognized an opportunity. “My name’s Dennis. Dennis Reynolds.”

“Well, Dennis Reynolds,” the other player said, “You can call me Luxord.”

Luxord’s piercings were strangely hypnotic. The round ones at the tops of his ears were classy, and the sigil dangling from his left ear – clearly signaling him as gay, in Dennis’s estimation, and respect to him for admitting it – well, it kind of looked like an ass with a crucifix above it. Dennis could get behind that, if only to piss Mac off.

“Luxord, huh? Well, I guess it’s good you don’t remember me. We can get off on the right foot.”

“Of course I remember you, Dennis Reynolds. I was merely…  Playing. You were standing in the Twelfth District waiting for the Heartless to attack you. I came swooping into your rescue and you cried like a child.”

“Now listen here you trumped up pirate fucker –”

“—I apologize again, Dennis Reynolds, I meant no offense.”

“Sure you did, blondey,” Dennis said, rising to his full height. “I’m going to kick your –"

Luxord held up his hands in front of him. “Oh, dear, I was so hoping we could get along and play cards. You do like cards, don’t you, Dennis Reynolds?”

Dennis froze in place. He didn’t mean to freeze in place. But when Luxord had waved his hand, Dennis suddenly felt oddly flat. And oddly timeless. It took Dennis most of his tenure as an enormous playing card to realize that he had been transformed into an enormous playing card.

“Now, Dennis Reynolds, I do apologize for the offense I have given. As I said, I was merely…  playing. As way of apology, allow me to present you with a gift.” Luxord tapped his gloved finger to the part of the card that contained Dennis’s forehead. Dennis felt a power surge through him – Like the electricity from Larxene’s knives, but without the pain. A dark aura momentarily bled off of his card. “There, now, I certainly hope you find something to do with that.”

With that, Luxord snapped his fingers. Dennis found himself both three dimensional again, and outside of The Shadow Saloon.

“Oh I’m going to fuck that guy up,” Dennis said. He didn’t see the dark aura bleed off of his hand as he said that. He stormed into The Shadow Saloon, and saw Luxord standing up.

“You don’t really have time for this,” Luxord waved his hand again, and Dennis found himself outside again. Once more, he stormed into the saloon.

“You’re really not a very smart man, are you?” Luxord twitched his hand this time, and Dennis was outside yet again.         

“Whatever, I’ll get him later.” Dennis stormed back towards Café Paddy.

 

***

 

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Larxene said as she came out of the bathroom. “What exactly are we trying to do with these losers?”

 “Well,” Luxord said, spreading his arms wide again, “What is the point of betting on something when you already know the outcome?”

 “That’s so stupid.”

 “We all have our little games on the side, my dear. I don’t mock yours, do I?”

 Larxene looked shocked for a second, then said “I don’t know what games you mean. I’m only playing yours, and Xemnas’s.”

 “Of course,” Luxord said. “You have to play your cards close to your chest.” He winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jude (singingwasps) wrote the really good parts; Sophia (Sophia_Surname) wrote the rest which is also good  
> -Sophia


	3. Frank Eats A Candy

Frank came bursting into the café. “Charlie, Charlie, I broke into Cid’s warehouse and stole some Gummies!”

“Charlie’s not here, Frank. He’s off with Mac getting killed by Heartless in the Second District.” Dee sneered. “Why are you stealing candy from engineers?”

“They’re not candy, Dee.” He pulled out a star shaped Gummi Block. it shimmered in the candlelight. Dee looked at it with a skeptical eye. “They’re some kind of spaceship shit, Dee, that let you travel between worlds.”

“How many have you eaten, Frank.”

“Just a couple!”

“Well, ok, whatever Frank,” she exhaled. It’s not time to get into this, she thought, repeated like a mantra. “It’s not my problem if you want to eat a spaceship. Will you just help me with the tables?”

“No time, Dee, I gotta try to put these Gummis together.” Frank spilled a small sack onto one of the tables, leaving a smaller pile of the Gummi Blocks, these ones shaped like blocks.

It’s not time to get into this, she thought again. Oh Jesus. Some of them had horrible little gnaw marks on them, like rats got to them. “How many have you eaten” was a joke, and yet, and yet Frank found a way. She couldn’t blame him, not really, because there was a slight fruity scent coming off of them, or a sensation of that weird thing that happens when you found a really nice pair of shoes and your chest feels warm. 

Not exactly escaping her notice was the fact that they seemed..smaller, than most of the ones in Cid’s shop. 

Cid’s nice enough, she thought. Never really comments that she sort of just looks at the jewelry sometimes. Once in a while, he’ll offer her tea, which is almost always uniformly disgusting, but it’s nice. She almost never saw him at Paddy’s, and when she did, he’d always order like nine coffees. 

If she had a dad, she kinda hoped he’d be like Cid.

But she sighed, looks at the assembled scrawny blocks, and said, “Frank, you have like twelve blocks there. None of us are going to fit into a ship made out of twelve blocks.”

“It’s a proof of concept, Dee. If I can put them together, I can go steal more and make us a real cool rocketship.” Dee didn’t see Frank absent-mindedly put the star shaped block in his mouth. He didn’t even chew it, he just swallowed it.

Dee turned and looked at the stack of blocks on the table. She had miscounted; there were a couple dozen. But there was no way they were going to make a big enough ship to travel in. Frank was playing with them, but not accomplishing anything.

“Let me help you with those, you idiot,” she said as she walked up to the table. As soon as she put two of them next to each other, they fused. She almost jumped back at the sudden transformation; when she went to pull them apart, they easily did.

“We’re definitely going to need more of these if we’re going to make something we can actually fit in… Frank, where’d that star block go?”

Frank exploded into a burst of light and shot through the roof of Café Paddy.

“God damn it,” she yelled up at the hole.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161319726@N03/45916299625/in/dateposted-public/)

Charlie smacked the ant with his keyblade. It disappeared in a puff of smoke, and a pink heart flew out. Charlie kind of wished he could grab that heart and take it to the Waitress, but every time he tried it just passed right through his hands.

Mac clambered up from the ground and brushed himself off. “Thanks, Charlie, I owe you one.”

“Mac, every time I kill one of those ant things –”

“They’re called Shadows, Charlie.”

“—Shadow Ants, it’s because it’s on top of you and trying to rip your face off. You really shouldn’t have come with me, Mac, this is too dangerous!”

Mac had dropped his nunchucks the second he had been attacked, which was the second that they entered the Second District, and Charlie had been batting the Ant Shadows off of him ever since.

“I can handle myself, Charlie,” Mac said again. An ant appeared behind him; Mac did, to his credit, turn in time to punch it, but the punch did nothing to the Shadow. Charlie flailed past and smacked the ant with the teeth of the key.

It is now that I lift my pen and must interrupt to address a fact that the astute reader must be wondering about, and therefore must be addressed: Anyone who can wield a keyblade instantly knows how to use it with some small level of efficacy. Kairi, well over a year later than the events of our story, who had no training with a weapon whatsoever, easily held her own against Nobodies purely on instinct in The World That Never Was. 

Charlie Kelly, similarly, only had training with a stick that he used to beat rats, yet he was skillful enough with the new sword that he could dispatch Shadows. A skillset possessed by a fourteen year old boy could be at least approached by Charlie Kelly. (Of course, a sentence like this is unprofessional for a recordkeeper such as I.) But even this early, he was even occasionally defeating a Soldier. 

The Keyblade is a magical sword after all, and instantly unlocks a small amount of its bearer’s potential. Training is still required, as seen with every wielder save Sora, Roxas, Xion, and Riku. 

Charlie Kelly, of course, was not likely to receive any training, as you may have guessed. Sometimes life throws you, as Frank would say, “a star shaped gusher” into your lap. There was no anagramic scholar to teach Charlie Kelly, technically a chosen hero, the finesse of wielding a keyblade. 

Sometimes life is patently unfair, which returns us to the narrative, and my pen to paper.

Charlie turned to chastise Mac again (of course, Charlie did not know the word “chastise”, so he only intended to scream at his friend), and saw Mac staring at a big fat man with a face that was just two yellow eyes and a crooked line in a pit of deep shadow.

And Mac, Being Mac, immediately decided that the guy was totally doable. What’s a big fat guy gonna do. The thing looked like it was gonna take a nap. So Mac, Being Mac, punched the thing, and his fist...bounced.

Besides the horrifying pain and the crunch of bone (which was probably nothing, he’d read once on a pamphlet that breaking your bones only made it stronger), for a moment, he thought that this meant nothing, but something...changed in the thing’s face. That the previous serenity on the thing’s face shifted. It angrily slapped the belly, the chains around its wrists shaking, clinking impossibly with metal that didn’t look quite like metal. 

Mac threw out his hands in front of him instinctively… and blades of ice came flying out, in a semi-circle that was almost a star, one of the points not quite formed. The fat man stopped in his tracks with a start, and scratched his head again; confused, but moving forward nonetheless. Mac stared at his hands, and then tried again; more ice came flying out. Mac did it again and again and again until the fat man collapsed and then dissolved into a heart, which fluttered up, a little weakly, frost crackling off of it.

“Did you see that, Charlie? You see those sick fuckin’ ninja stars I made,” he exclaimed, doing what Yuffie would classify as just waving your hands like an idiot. 

One of his hands was probably, definitely broken, Charlie thought, being pretty familiar with breaking your hand punching a larger opponent. “I think we should talk to those like. Weird baby chickens about your hand. They sell that green stuff, right?”

“Nah, dude I’m fine. Don’t need it. Obviously I got magic so I’m immortal and besides that I’ve trained for years to strengthen my-” he struggled with the pronunciation. “Qi. Key.”   
***

Charlie and Mac came rushing into Café Paddy with a look of delight on each of their faces. “That was so cool!” Mac shouted. “We have to show Dennis, Dennis is going to love this.”

“You know who else will love it? Frank, Frank will love it.”

“Oh come on Charlie I don’t care about showing Frank –”

“Frank, get in here!” Charlie shouted. “Dee, where’s Frank?”

Dee emerged from the back room, hair in a ponytail, clearly busy with something. Whatever it was definitely wasn’t as cool as Ninja Stars made out of water. She looked slightly annoyed, and there was a streak of something that looked like jelly on her cheek, slightly iridescent green. “What are you two dickheads shouting about?”

“Who cares, where’s Frank?”

“And Dennis?” The other two ignored Mac.

Dee shrugged, “I don’t know and I don’t care. Frank ate a gummi and broke our goddamn roof again. Dennis is doing Dennis crap again. You know, things have really been popping off for me too, over here.” 

Charlie made Charlie noises, clearly tempted by the smell of artificial fruit in the air.

“Frank ate a gummi? Oh that can’t be good.” Mac didn’t seem that concerned; he blew ice shards at the candles on the table. The chest that Charlie had set up clicked open. Charlie briefly glared at Mac, but decided not to start a fight about this one. He’d just fill the chest up. Again. He needed to talk to the weird birds anyway.

Mac, who was by now a seasoned warrior, looked at the mega-potion. Only a few days ago, he probably would’ve said it was useless, but now the dumb orby thing could come in handy. He pocketed it, with a minimal tinkling of broken glass feet. 

“Did it look like this?” Charlie got out a picture he had drawn that looked vaguely like a pentagon.

After a few moments of scrutiny she said, “No, it looked like a star.”

Charlie looked at her, like she was touting her weird the moon isn’t literally cheese theory. “That’s what this is a picture of, Dee.”

“Charlie, that’s just a shape.” she struggles.

“No, this is a --- look whatever,” he made a noise halfway between a tea kettle and a garbage disposal discovering opera, “this gummi is called a Straw Shart.”

He let this land for a moment, before Mac, who took out the mega-potion again, wrinkled his forehead, deep in thought. The three stars and the yellow thing in the middle stayed immobile, as he shook it, though he could see those little bubbles in seltzer water rise up. 

“That can’t be right,” Mac muttered. 

“It’s kind of like the engine of a gummi ship,” Dee explained, like she’d always known this. And she had, sort of. When Cid visits, he explains how it works, whether she wants him to or not. Once in a while, it’ll land, or she’ll remember it. Until now it seemed kinda useless trivia, something to hold over Dennis, when he started complaining about how her womanly brain can’t handle how a toaster works. 

The other two stared blankly at her, and she explained, slowly, “It takes you places and it can move without meaning to.”

“So Frank-” Mac trailed off, and sniffed at the mega potion. It smelled like a baybreeze, but without the vodka. 

“Blasted off without protection, yeah yeah, catch up, Mac,” Dee snapped her fingers in front of him. “Whatever. He’s just floating in the realm of light,” the last part was said with a certain amount of derision. 

Cricket definitely used to know something about it, like a big castle, where a couple of jumped up rats lived. 

“Ok, look, guys, I know exactly what to do to get through interspace or the lines betwixt or whatever. Just give me like two minutes.” Charlie ran into the back of Café Paddy.

***

The Green Man stood holding his keyblade in front of him.

“Charlie, why would that stupid bodysuit keep you safe from darkness?” Dee asked.

“Yeah, Charlie,” Mac said gently, “This doesn’t seem like your best idea. Anyway, we stole those coats so we don’t have to do this...”

“Trust me guys, the Green Man got me through some hard times.” Charlie flexed, and held his keyblade out in front of him again.

“What are you doing, man?”

“I’m trying to – You know – I’m trying to summon my surfboard.”

“Your surfboard,” Dee asked dubiously. “Charlie you’ve never seen the ocean.”

“That kid told me about it, it’s like a big pond, and you ride the soft mountains,” he said, like that would explain anything, and then added patiently. “Or maybe mine will be a motorcycle, I don’t know.”

“Charlie, no one has any idea what you’re talking about.”

“I saw it in a book, Keyblades can turn into surfboards or mopeds or something for people to travel through the lines.”

“Charlie you can’t read.”

Another noise, this time, maracas discovering how to whistle, “I can and it was a picture book.” after a few moments of just staring blankly at his keyblade, he said, “Oh, right, this is how they did it.”

Charlie threw the keyblade into the air, and as it fell into his green hands, nothing happened. Charlie did it again, and then a third time, at which point it transformed into a surfboard, hovering in mid-air.

“Alright, now we’re cooking with fira!” Charlie shouted triumphantly as he leapt onto the surfboard and promptly toppled off.

Dee was roaring with laughter as Charlie climbed to his feet, an activity that was hampered by his slippery green man suit. Every time he slipped and collided with the ground again, Dee roared harder. Mac was making an effort not to laugh at his friend, who was a bonafide hero now, but he couldn’t help it.

When Charlie finally rose to his feet, he tried to look dignified until his friends stopped laughing. He made Charlie noises in the meantime.

“You think this is funny, Dee?” He eventually said, “Your dad is off who knows where in the worlds, probably getting killed by ants in helmets.”

Dee hesitated at that. Frank was her dad, but did that make sense? She didn’t remember him raising her. She didn’t remember anyone raising her. Which meant that she didn’t much care if her what could technically be called a father, got killed by Soldiers or Large Bodies or whatever the hell else showed up outside of this dinky world. Maybe in another life she’d care, but she thought about the gnawed gummi blocks and the weird gambling ring, and Cid making tea while he explained what she thought was called astro-physics. So instead, she started laughing again at the image.

Finally, Charlie found himself hovering above the ground, relatively stable. By now it was less funny, and Dee had started paging through one of the welcoming pamphlets from the hotel called SO NOW YOUR WORLD’S BEEN DESTROYED? It didn’t have any helpful tips, and she couldn’t really remember ever coming from anywhere, but there were a lot of them. Actually she couldn’t remember who made them or who ran the hotel. But right now, that wasn’t important.

He was wobbling a bit, but not falling down. “Like a weeble,” Frank would have said if he were there, but none of them knew that, or what a weeble was.

“Ok,” Mac said. “Where am I going to fit?”

“There’s only room for Charlie on that thing, Mac,” Dee said, not looking up from a particularly cheerful section on how Traverse Town had a lot of amenities, like a handbag store. Of course none of them mentioned Paddy’s Cafe. Rather it mentioned a ‘rustic, charming local eatery’, which she had no choice but to assume it meant that weird place that had six dollar hot dogs. 

Paddy’s sort of slid off of people’s minds, except for that skinny redhead from Frank’s gambling buddies, Cid, and those stupid tiny ducks Charlie was perpetually in a fight with.

She surreptitiously checked the clock, because a weird guy in a cheap suit and one of those dumb extending batons came around six on Thursdays. Luckily it was 5:30 on a Wednesday. 

Dee gave this some thought. It was never not night time, actually, now that she thought about it. 

Whatever. Not her problem.

Mac chugged the mega-potion, feeling his broken hand reheal, and disappointed in the fact that the bones didn’t feel thicker. He wanted to crush the bottle against his head, but it dissipated before he could. With a belch, he said, “I know, but I’m going too.”

“No, Dee’s right about this one Mac, there’s no way we’re both going to fit on my sweet hoverboard.”

“Ok you know what I’ll just hop on there.”

“No don’t –”

The two of them made a lot of noises, most of them Charlie noises, as Mac clambered onto the Keyblade. Somehow they managed only to shift back and forth, and not topple over. It seemed that the Keyblade was becoming aware of its wielder and his friends’ insufficiencies, and was willing to adapt itself to keep them upright.

“Are we ready to go now?” Charlie screeched, reaching dangerous decibel levels.

“Yeah,” Mac said, grinning.

“You’re not wearing anything to protect you from the darkness, idiots,” Dee said, leaning against one of the tables, and resting her chin on her hand.

“Oh yeah. The green man suit will protect me, but Mac, you need one of those cloaks.”

“Charlie, why aren’t you wearing one of the cloaks?”

“Because I’ve got the Green man!”

Mac huffed, from the sheer ingratitude, “Why did we steal the cloaks if you’re not even going to wear one?”

“Because I didn’t know I was going to get a damn Keyblade Dee!”

“Dee, go get us a cloak,” Mac ordered.

“Excuse me? Are you ordering me around?”

“I am one of the owners of this café.”

Dee almost launched into a tirade about how none of them owned the café, how all of them had just been living there as long as they could remember, and how wasn’t that kind of strange, now that she was actually thinking about it? But before she could Charlie interrupted with a shout.

“Just go get a damn cloak Mac, Frank needs our help!”

“If I get off the Keyblade, you’ll go without me,” he pointed out.

Charlie had nothing to say about that, because that had been his plan.

“I knew it!”

“Ok, fine, Mac, we’ll go without the cloaks.” Charlie snapped, “are you happy now? We’re gonna freeze to death in the darkness, and you’ll lose all semblance of yourself, as you fade into nothing like those little ants.”

The other two stared, a little stunned by the moment of clarity. Sometimes Charlie had them, like he’d talk about how if you were really strong, you’d shed your skin like one of those tiny Godzillas, and split into two. The little ants were just people who got lost, he’d say, when he thought they didn’t know he was feeding them. He’d never say what the other part was, just that they looked like people. 

“Ok first off,” Mac started.

Dee lifted her hand. “Ok, Charlie, in a day full of nothing but bad ideas, that seems like the worst one yet.”

“Whatever,” Charlie said, ending the conversation. He leaned forward and the surfboard edged forward. Mac wrapped his arms around Charlie’s waist, which made Charlie pretty uncomfortable, but he was the Green man, and nothing could frighten him. Except for the sudden realization that actually leaving the only home he had ever known was terrifying. Why had he wanted to leave again?

He had a house, technically, and he had friends, technically, and food technically. But something inside him was growing, like a weed. If he stayed here, in Traverse Town, he’d fade away, little by little, or he’d get eaten, like the nice lady who talked about Paddy’s, or the other guy by the shoe store. People just disappeared around here. Eventually there wouldn’t be a Charlie that lived in Traverse Town, there’d just be a cafe, with a chest that had an item, and candles that went out, and a little blue mark of three hearts.

But it was scary. The world was so big, and so noisy, and even muffling his ears in the Green Man, he could heard it, hear the little ants, and the thrum of piping and the gizmo shop, and the sad dogs. 

Outside of Traverse Town he didn’t even know if he existed.

But this seemed to be enough, and with a sudden bucking, the surfboard moved forward. And then to the side. And then into a loop the loop. And then he and Mac were screaming. And then they were careening around the outdoor seating area. And then they slammed into Dee, who was also screaming, but who hissed “not without me, asshat”, and clawed on with her weird bird hands.

And then they were shooting into the sky.

It looked a little something like this:

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161319726@N03/39865851183/in/dateposted-public/)

***

Dennis was approaching Café Paddy just in time to see Mac, Dee, and the Green Man fly off into the sky.

“Oh, great, they left without me,” he grumbled. “Well whatever, I don’t need them,” he rationalized as he felt his ears pop, and heard a ripping sound behind him.


End file.
